“I don’t believe the accident of birth makes people sisters or brothers.  It makes them siblings.  Gives them mutuality of parentage.  Sisterhood and brotherhood is a condition people have to work at.”

– Maya Angelou

Yesterday was  Mother’s Day.  In the fine tradition established by my granddaughter’s involvement in basketball, we spent my special day out of town at a tournament — three games spread from early morning to late afternoon.    There was no time for traditional festivities, but I really didn’t mind.  I enjoy these chances to see my girl stretch her muscles and spread her wings.

For me, there is nothing more tiring than sitting still all day.  Even when I am working or writing at my computer, I take short breaks to get my juices flowing and keep my energy level high.  By the time we headed for home, I felt a bit sluggish, in spite of the excitement of the games.  After an hour in the car, we walked into the house and were met by a tantalizing aroma.  David, my thirty-one-year-old (step)son, and Emily, my twenty-two-year old daughter (and favorite child, just ask her) had taken over my kitchen.  They were assembling a recipe Emily had seen in a magazine — flank steak and vegetables over a bed of brown rice — and the blend of herbs and spices in the broth lifted me off my feet and drew me close to the activity.  Happy Mother’s Day to me!

How cool is it when you turn around and realize that even your youngest (and favorite) child is capable of pulling together such a delicious feast!  I just love it when I get to be one of the crowd who asks, “is dinner almost ready?  I’m starving.”

More delicious than the meal was listening to these two children of mine, one born to me and one a gift at the time of my marriage, laughing and working together and enjoying each other’s company.  It is such fun to see them now.  He was a third-grader when she made her appearance; and except for the times when Dave would take a break from being an eight-year-old boy and decide that Em was sort of cute and fun to hold, they led very separate lives.  For the past couple of years, we have watched with wonder and delight as these two children of ours have found each other as brother and sister — as friends, rather than just accidental gifts of biology.

I sit at a distance to allow them the space to work on dinner, and I hear them joking with each other as they work.  They laugh the same funny giggle; and I smile and think, ‘I’ll bet they’re related.’  We sit down to my Mother’s Day dinner and they insist on taking a picture to prove that they pulled it off.  Amid jokes about adding ketchup for flavor, we took in one of the sweetest meals I can remember enjoying in a long time.  And the food was good, too!